


Come To Me (As A Star)

by nuabo



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending, Park Seonghwa-centric, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, everyone loves park seonghwa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuabo/pseuds/nuabo
Summary: Seonghwa marvelled at everything. According to his members, he was the most innocent of them all. His sense of wonder was humble and pure. He gazed at them all with heartfelt devotion. It staggered them to witness.Seonghwa gave up every portion of himself to make them smile.(Or the time where it was Seonghwa’s first life.)
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Choi San/Jeong Yunho/Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang/Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa/Song Mingi, Park Seonghwa/Everyone
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	Come To Me (As A Star)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/seonghwactivity/status/1311488785469837312).

...

THE SKY APPEARED SERENE.

At least to Park Seonghwa. 

He gazed at the clouds; the shapes intriguing and perfectly unique.

Had his mind not been occupied with different priorities, Seonghwa would’ve reflected.

He'd have decided similarities to the accumulations with that of animals and objects.

That habit persistent to stick with him since childhood.

Seonghwa was restless the night before. No matter how aggravating it was for him to stay awake, his body outright refused to let him sleep easy.

An abundance of nerves syncopated Seonghwa’s heartbeat during those hours in lieu of slumber.

He conjured up a thousand possible scenarios for his tomorrow.

He ached for the day to dawn, if only to not prolong the wonderings.

It conditioned him to be sluggish in that break of morning.

Seonghwa’s mother fretted over his state as the male tried to neaten himself up. She checked that he got up with his alarm only to discover him ironing his best shirt for the nth time.

Her encouraging words did little to appease Seonghwa’s profound stress.

“No matter what happens, you’ve done so well,” his mother insisted, fierce and without compromise. She pried Seonghwa away from the task he was at and urged him to breakfast. “You always make me proud.”

Seonghwa smiled at her. The fatigue settled in his bones. His head felt heavy. “I’ll do my best today.”

That date marked something Seonghwa knew he’d never forget, not in his life. 

A fresh beginning. 

One he never presumed he’d come to face.

The young male hurried onward. His steps light and his anticipation at a maximum threshold.

The looming cityscape crowded over him but did not shake his steeled resolve. 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened at the plentiful surroundings. Fascinated by the details swirled around him.

He familiarised himself with the streets and the palpable, giddy atmosphere.

The excitement thrummed in his bloodstream.

He finally reached out to grasp his dream with both hands.

...

“Hyung! Hyung, are you listening?”

Seonghwa frowned at the yell. It brought him out of his trance. 

The culprit to the disturbance looked at him sharply. “Hyung, we have to get going!”

With a sigh, Seonghwa nodded his assent to the other.

He balanced himself to stand taller, his expression neutralised from its prior transparency. 

He’d been riveted, entranced by the bloom of flowers before him.

The vibrant colours of the season welcomed him joyfully. 

The magnetic pull to the blossoms impossible for Seonghwa to win over.

The scent comforted him.

Wooyoung did not seem to agree with the devised sentiment. “You can find flowers like that anywhere, hyung! We need to get back. We can come back later.”

Seonghwa wanted to formulate the right words to explain himself. He wished he could swiftly elaborate on how meaningful the sight was. 

How nature enticed him to linger, always. To cherish the seconds and yearn to remain in proximity to the riches of the earth.

But Seonghwa doesn’t possess the ability to convey himself in scrupulous sentences, at least not relative to that of Hongjoong or Mingi.

They spoke in ways that Seonghwa could only try to emulate.

Seonghwa often felt inadequate positioned next to them both.

They were leaps and bounds ahead in every conceivable way to him.

So, Seonghwa only gave a final and fleeting glance to the points of pride of his distraction.

He willed himself to protect their integrity in his memories. He disliked the idea of forgetting them too soon. “Okay, let’s go back.”

...

There were places that stretched far beyond the horizon to him.

Seonghwa struggled to keep up. He often thought he’d be left behind.

His legs cried out, and his chest constricted. The doubts plagued him. 

Everything simple transformed to be complex. Isolated, Seonghwa despaired within some subsumed increments.

His identity, his future. In silence, the uncertainties deceived him to come to fruition as destinies he fought hard against.

Somewhere along that trajectory, though, Seonghwa began to free himself from that imprisonment of worry he’d been accustom to.

He began to learn. To thrive. To grow.

He opened up to the fans gradually. Less afraid, then. The collected experience relaxed him to be natural at speaking at length with them.

Seonghwa discovered galaxies in their eyes. Each and every person held merit to be firm in his cognition. 

They possessed constellations of themselves. Celestial bodies that ultimately led to mapping toward Seonghwa and the group.

The desire to keep onboard that special journey stabilised as a constant in him.

The sense of belonging the greatest comfort he’d ever known.

...

Seonghwa adored the beach.

The other members were playing around, rushing back and forth. 

The picturesque shore and the glow of the moon above appeared ethereal to Seonghwa. He stared, transfixed.

Such a cold autumn night never felt as warm to him as that day at Busan had.

People told Seonghwa he’d been naive before. That he misplaced his faith and was following the wrong path.

There the eight of them were. Fully committed to their careers. The fan sign made it crystal clear how compelling the cause for them was.

It all was real. 

The confidence that stirred inside Seonghwa had him giggling to himself.

He was gratified to realise how far they had already come. 

Miraculous to have transversed into the realm where he dreamed about.

Where the lights blazed, and the sounds thrilled him to his core.

The earnest push to keep going untampered in him.

They extinguished the disbelief of the people who discredited them.

They were doing well. They were ready. They were passionate.

...

Seonghwa embraced the sweltering temperature of summer.

The rush and fun to their concept in that celebration of youth and whimsy of the time. 

It made everything golden.

It took adjusting, with the years, to cope with his living arrangements and forged routine. Coming to grips with the quirks and traits of his group had not been an over-night accomplishment.

Seonghwa made note of each male in brevity, mainly. Discerned their behaviours and clocked on to their ways of expressing themselves. Observant and intrigued.

The interactions fuelled him to understand and comprehend who they were with more weight to his thought process.

Like everything else, all came new to him in solidifying his friendships.

There was never a dull moment in passing with the eight males jumbled together. Mismatched was their general attitude, for sure. 

Seonghwa thought that's what made them charming.

The authenticity of their shared relationships snug in his veins.

They were near.

Open and dazzling to him in the breaks between being the idol image.

The uncharted territory Seonghwa resided in a maze to navigate. Yet, he dutifully did so without over-analysing his means of finding his way.

He knew he’d be okay.

He had time to nurture their union.

They'd be even closer, someday.

...

“—- have the most instinct to look after?”

The interviewer regarded them eagerly. The enthusiastic pitch was refreshing. 

Seonghwa leaned forward in his chair. His headphones hadn’t settled for him to detect the communication smoothly. 

He felt guilty he was trudging behind the others to contribute to the conversation.

It had been an off-day to him. They came less frequently, but Seonghwa was still victim to the ache they brought.

The group had been in a slew of events for the past week. The packed schedule left room for little respite.

“Even though he’s the eldest, we all have a strong urge to protect Seonghwa-hyung.” Yeosang answered after a beat.

He beamed at Seonghwa, who flustered at the very statement delivered.

“Hyung is cute,” Mingi chimed in with. “He always takes care of us, and works diligently.” 

The other members, excluding the mortified Seonghwa, all made noises in agreement.

“Seonghwa-hyung feels like a biological brother,” Wooyoung added. His conviction was undeniable.

“He grounds us,” Hongjoong summarised, voice soft. “Seonghwa’s energy is incredible. He makes the world brighter, really.”

...

He asked Hongjoong one day, out of the blue, why he got included in the line-up. 

Sometimes, the points where Seonghwa lacked and his review of his performances made the dread trickle down his spine. 

He pondered if he was but a burden to the rest of them.

He would watch San and Yunho danced like they were born to create vivid stories with their precise movements.

How Mingi and Hongjoong crafted compositions that were esteemed to be to the highest order in exquisite.

Yeosang and Wooyoung were exemplary in their presence on camera, their angles fitting, and their motions without a single fault.

Then Jongho, his vocal talent unparalleled by anyone else Seonghwa could think of. Raw and commanding, his singing made everyone fall in love.

Seonghwa gnawed at his lower lip, listing off what made his members the incredible beings they were. 

He didn't know how he came into the frame to be deserving to be with them.

Hongjoong hummed at him. He gave him Seonghwa his secretive smirk. The one that put a pretty glimmer in his eyes.

"Because you were our missing piece," he told Seonghwa. His voice left no room for debate. "Because we needed you."

...

It wasn't just racing to events and touch-ups for his outfit and make-up.

Seonghwa liked the subtle side of his lifestyle best.

Pressed close to the bodies of his members to squeeze in under the blanket fort when in the dorms. All of them, clustered together in that space.

They often stayed up late to watch movies or play video games. Cheeky, and defiant to adhere to their manager's calls to go to bed. 

They found out how useless they were at cooking and made it a mission to be able to fry eggs that were edible. Too many close-calls with burning things to count.

They shared their deepest secrets in hushed whispers, drowsy and nervous before arrival at the next recording. Held hands as they were homesick and anxious to go up the steps to the stage.

Seonghwa cherished the tenderness that came with the mundane.

His youth was theirs.

...

Confused, Seonghwa huffed.

“Hyung, you’re really bad at this game,” Jongho chastised him, though not unkindly.

The youngest wore a bemused countenance when he inspected Seonghwa’s phone screen. He neglected to remark on the score itself.

Seonghwa fragmentised himself at the revel of his mediocre results. Impish to a defeat.

The mobile game taunted the sulking male. The low score frustrated him more than he bargained for.

He couldn’t figure out how everyone else had mastered the techniques to do well.

Awkward in the face of his abysmal ability, Seonghwa failed to adapt to the mechanics of the application and ended up facing little reward with his every effort.

He attempted to regain some level of dignity by retrying the game but remained unfortunate. It perplexed him.

“Maybe it’s your age,” San commented. Smug with the success of his single turn, the male let his haughtiness irk Seonghwa for good measure. “A year makes a difference, hyung.”

“It’s not that.” Seonghwa took back his device from Jongho. Determined, he relaunched the level. He concentrated his attention to it, lips pressed in a firm line. “I’ll be at your level soon, you brats.”

The laughter and jeers at that made Seonghwa roll his eyes fondly.

...

Seonghwa tended to be tentative.

He eased into the recording sessions as though they were a pool of cold water.

He hung back to practice movements with a keen eye for error.

He combed through tips on how to be upbeat and pleasant in any forthcoming presentation.

Even when he climbed to heights beyond his imagination, he felt faint but resolve to reach the top.

Nothing came without the dedication, he discovered. Late nights and early mornings traded in for improvement. 

Seonghwa worked and worked. 

He wanted to ensure he was a support to his team. Everything was alien to him to take in. Unpredictable and resplendent.

He refused to give up. The blood, sweat, and tears not lightly given over. 

Seonghwa would do everything in his power to stay on stage with his freshly-dubbed brothers.

They shone brightest together.

...

Sometimes the sky was overcast and the winds were harsh.

Seonghwa detested the elements that brought danger. He longed to hide away, to stay removed from the turbulence.

It was not just the environment that brought the scathing temperament. His members were blunt when cornered.

They’d dismiss him, each other, and all better judgment. Too entreated to continue down a lonely road.

As individuals, they were rooted in their opinions or impulsive to their feelings.

Stubborn, immature. Squabbles would be petty mostly, and turn into a larger rift due to the nature of their mindsets being inflated.

Even when wrong, their pride disagreed with them to rectify their mistakes.

It exasperated Seonghwa. He used up all he could try to figure out what means to restore harmony in the group.

Even when they’d snap at him and demand he give them room to be alone, Seonghwa would hesitate.

Too forgiving.

The lump in his throat feeling their upsets too much for him to swallow down. 

Red-rimmed eyes were his weakness. Seonghwa wasn't super sure why, but he had to surrender to his instinct to try and stay with them when the coldness seeped into their veins.

He was too sensitive, he supposed, to let them fight their inner battles without any incline to a safety net.

The truth was he couldn't picture a world without them. 

Because Seonghwa gave them pieces of himself. He could finally love himself, in seeing himself in them.

The insecurities ran rampant. They threatened to crumble the foundation of their precious dynamics altogether.

Short answers and stiff body language. Silent treatment and stifled retorts.

They were young and dumb. Above that, they were brave and strong.

Seonghwa wished to be reliable and attentive to them. The disquiet wrong on every level for him to contemplate.

He knew they had to build bridges that could overcome the worst storms, else lose all they had. 

The price of themselves in that exchange irredeemable once placed. It required sacrifice to protect their bond.

So, Seonghwa waited. Patient until they were willing to let him in. Careful to take care of himself and them.

The strands of themselves interweaved at the end. They were connected, their heartbeats at the same rhythm. 

The reach to the stars. Though dark, Seonghwa was not afraid. Not anymore.

The hypnotic, transcendent force of their friendship gave him courage.

...

The round of applause bolstered Seonghwa up. Higher, higher, and higher. 

He tried to force the tears back and failed.

_We won._

The victory tasted sweet. The sensation of it like honeysuckle upon his tongue.

The clamour of noise was bliss to Seonghwa.

The adrenaline and burst of happiness rendered him light-headed. 

The edges of his vision grew hazy. It startled every inch of him to be brought to the brink of too elated.

He was falling inwardly, his body adrift in the euphoria. 

Yunho steadied Seonghwa’s form. The touch was gentle, and enough. 

The hook to Seonghwa’s gut came in the form of how the others came to him to embrace him tightly.

When the cameras turned away from them, they all stayed pressed as a single unit.

The seven huddled to Seonghwa, in gravitational orbit. Like satellites, they came to diminish the intensity that displaced Seonghwa’s peace. 

That once-burgeoning friendship, which started only as some tight rope that brought obstacles and sway, had strengthened itself.

It formed itself to be a family. 

Seonghwa hugged them. 

The heat of their skin and the pace of their breathing made Seonghwa close his eyes to take everything in.

He lost himself completely to that reassurance.

Unspoken, for where he still lacked to state his gratitude, he hoped his reach to them gave them the love his heart held. 

How he found them, and they became his home. A haven for him. 

Safe with them. 

They all bowed to the audience, their grins wide and cheeks rosy-red. 

_Let’s go on forever._

...

When it was over, at some interim far-flung from the spilling sunlight and shy smiles of their earliest memories, Seonghwa was proud. 

His child-like intrigue never abated. He'd still hang back to explore the nitty-gritty of wherever the group attended.

He dwelled on cosmic shores, willing himself to answer all his questions of existence.

There never seemed enough time to take the elegance of the world.

Seonghwa stole back hugs and cuddled up to his members at every given opportunity. They'd whine, but reciprocated his actions immediately.

He loved them. They loved him. 

Seonghwa was old and grey in the end. As ever, the life cycle of a human was something no one could dispose of. 

When he closed his eyes, Seonghwa was still that wide-eyed, twenty-year-old from Jinju who wanted to prescribe to the standards sought of him.

Heartbreaks and happiness came in waves during his course.

It had been magnificent. 

His joints were unable to do the choreography he once could. He was lucky he could amble along in his last months in life.

Most of the others had already gone ahead to leave behind the shells of their bodies and be free of the limitations that their entities imposed. 

Seonghwa missed them. At the tip of the sunset that hung on the buildings, he remembered their faces and words.

He fulfilled everything and more of his aspirations. At a timely end, he was thankful and regretted only that hadn’t met his best friends sooner.

That was his first life.

He promised to be with his members in the next.

Equally as mystified and enchanted by them.

Maybe, though, he'd catch up to their fast-paced world. 

All the memories of loving them. A never-ending story.

Their future teasing might let up, he hoped. He prayed that he learned enough to not be as clumsy again.

His affection was as strong as ever for them, even when it was his time to move on from their first life.

Seonghwa would find the others again, wherever they were.

...


End file.
